


Snow Dangerous

by Rina (rinadoll)



Series: Comfortween 2020 [4]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Comfortween, David Rose Loves Patrick Brewer, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:53:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27140686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinadoll/pseuds/Rina
Summary: “What the hell happened?” David demanded, his voice shrill. “Excuse me? Burly men carrying my husband? What happened?Written for Comfortween Day 22: Winter Wonderland (Winter vacation accident. Broken bone while skiing/sledding, hypothermia, snow mobile crash, avalanche, blizzard)
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Comfortween 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956790
Comments: 11
Kudos: 116
Collections: Comfortween 2020





	Snow Dangerous

David leaped to his feet with a loud gasp, hands flailing.

Patrick couldn’t really blame him. It was probably pretty startling to see your husband being carried inside on a rescue litter. About as startling for David as it was embarrassing for him.

“What the hell happened?” David demanded, his voice shrill. “Excuse me? Burly men carrying my husband? What happened?”

“Relax, David, I’m fine,” Patrick said, but that was undercut when one of the burly men stumbled, jostled him, and the resulting pain caused him to choke down a groan. Fucking ow. 

“Fine people don’t make that sound!” David insisted. “Or get carried on a litter like they are Cleopatra unless they are into that kind of thing and you are not the kind of person who is into that kind of thing!”

“We’re taking him to the in-house doctor,” one of the men cut in. “Follow us, sir.”

And so Patrick’s procession continued through the lobby of the very nice ski lodge where they were staying, while he tried to hide his face as much as possible. With him, the rescue litter, the burly men, and David, they made quite a memorable scene. 

David waved off the men and transferred him to the doctor’s table himself, which Patrick had to admit was kind of nice. David didn’t show off his strength nearly enough. 

“Is he going to die?” David asked bluntly. “Just tell me. Us.”

“I suspect not,” the doctor said. Her nametag said Kate Webster. “If you were after his money, you didn’t plan this well at all.” 

Patrick snorted as David’s mouth dropped. 

“Take a fall, Mr. Brewer?” She started feeling around his right leg and he grimaced. 

“Yeah, but you should see the other guy,” he joked and then squeaked with another prod. 

“Should I?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” Patrick said. “I fell avoiding a kid. She’s fine.”

“Mm-hmm. Fine like you’re fine?” David asked archly.

“Fine like I was this morning,” Patrick said, the pain spiked again. “Fuck!”

“We’ll do some x-rays, but I don’t think anything is broken,” Dr. Webster said. 

She was right. A strained knee, a sprained ankle, a sprained foot, all securely wrapped up. Luckily all on the same side, letting him hobble with crutches and a boot. 

He batted David away with a crutch. “I don’t need to be carried,” he said, trying to get back through the lobby without more attention. The dinner crowd was gathering, and he didn’t feel like being on display again.

David frowned and hovered anxiously, arms out like he was waiting for Patrick to fall. They slowly made their way to the elevators. Once inside, Patrick sagged against the wall. He ached all over, and he hurt, and honestly, he wanted a nap.

The doors slid open and he sighed. “You can carry me to our room,” he said, feeling a little defeated. David had him up before he’d even gotten all the words out, and Patrick let his head fall on David’s shoulder. 

David barely jostled him as he pulled out the room key, carried him through the sitting room and gently laid him on the bed. He bustled around, arranging almost all of the pillows under Patrick’s leg.

“I think that might be too high, David,” he said, trying to arrange himself so he didn’t feel so off balance. 

David brandished the instructions the doctor had given him. “Above your _heart_ , Patrick,” he said. “You should lay back more.” He shoved a glass of water and a handful of ibuprofen at him. “And take these. I’ll call for more pillows.”

Patrick let him bustle and waited for the pills to kick in, closing his eyes. 

He blinked what felt like a minute later, and saw David leaning over him, brow furrowed.

“I got you tea,” he said.

Patrick yawned and the tea disappeared. “You can drink it later,” David decided. “Go back to sleep.”

“I’m fine,” Patrick said and David rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, we’ll be talking about how fine you are later,” he said. “Sleep.” He dropped down in the chair between the bed and balcony and folded his arms. “Now.”

“Yes, David,” he said indulgently, and fell asleep. 

He sort of remembered taking more ibuprofen once or twice, but was still surprised to wake up and find the next day in full force.

David was still asleep, and had apparently built a wall of pillows between them. Patrick shook his head fondly and made his way slowly to the bathroom and back. 

He swung himself back into bed and started dismantling the fortress.

“You’re not allowed on skis ever again,” David said groggily. 

“I think that kid is the one who shouldn’t be allowed on skis ever again,” Patrick said. “Good morning.”

“I thought you were, like, killed or something,” David mumbled. “No more skis.”

“I’m sorry,” Patrick said, pressing a kiss to his bedhead. “I know that must have been scary for you. They wouldn’t let me walk myself in, that’s all. Liability. This isn’t the first time I’ve sprained something, you know.”

“Three things at the same time, though?” David asked, skeptically. “You’ve sprained all these things at once?”

Patrick laughed. “No. That’s new. But I know how to take care of sprains, and bruises, and athletic aches. It looked a lot worse than it is, I promise.”

“Not sure I believe you,” David said, one eye pried open and staring him down. 

Patrick rattled off all the instructions he knew would be on the sheets the doctor had given David.

“Fine, fine, got it, sportsball has been trying to kill you longer than skis have,” David said, rolling on his side to face Patrick.

“Sportspuck, too,” Patrick said and David groaned. 

“Don’t remind me,” he said. “Let me get you more ibuprofen.”

“Already done,” Patrick said, and David sat up.

“You are supposed to stay off your leg,” he said, accusingly. “You said you knew the directions!”

“I have my crutches for the very few times I need to move,” Patrick said. “Very few. Really.” He had a vision of being stuck in bed the rest of the week--which would be just fine with him, if not for the wall of pillows. 

“Do you want to go home early?” David asked. “I know you were looking forward to, you know.” He waved vaguely at the outdoors, where Patrick had been skiing and skating already, but had had plans for so much more. 

Patrick considered. The room was already paid for, a gift from his parents, and he knew David had also been looking forward to the spa and lodge. And it wouldn’t be any fun stuck inside at home. Plus, room service.

“We should stay,” he said. “We’ll find some activities to do together.”

David lit up. “I have a cocoa tasting before lunch this afternoon that I’m sure you can come to. Or maybe they’ll deliver it up here since you’re injured,” he said thoughtfully. 

Maybe it wasn’t the trip they’d planned, but at least it would still be fun.


End file.
